the titan-第95章
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ed or a single word spoken。 There is a static something which is beauty； and this may be clothed in the habiliments of a ragged philosopher or in the silks and satins of pampered coquetry。 It was a suggestion of this beauty which is above sex and above age and above wealth that shone in the blowing hair and night…blue eyes of Berenice Fleming。 His visit to the Carter family at Pocono had been a disappointment to him； because of the apparent hopelessness of arousing Berenice's interest； and since that time； and during their casual encounters； she had remained politely indifferent。 Nevertheless； he remained true to his persistence in the pursuit of any game he had fixed upon。 Mrs。 Carter； whose relations with Cowperwood had in the past been not wholly platonic； nevertheless attributed much of his interest in her to her children and their vital chance。 Berenice and Rolfe themselves knew nothing concerning the nature of their mother's arrangements with Cowperwood。 True to his promise of protectorship and assistance； he had established her in a New York apartment adjacent to her daughter's school； and where he fancied that he himself might spend many happy hours were Berenice but near。 Proximity to Berenice！ The desire to arouse her interest and command her favor！ Cowperwood would scarcely have cared to admit to himself how great a part this played in a thought which had recently been creeping into his mind。 It was that of erecting a splendid house in New York。
By degrees this idea of building a New York house had grown upon him。 His Chicago mansion was a costly sepulcher in which Aileen sat brooding over the woes which had befallen her。 Moreover； aside from the social defeat which it represented； it was becoming merely as a structure； but poorly typical of the splendor and ability of his imaginations。 This second dwelling； if he ever achieved it； should be resplendent； a monument to himself。 In his speculative wanderings abroad he had seen many such great palaces； designed with the utmost care； which had housed the taste and culture of generations of men。 His art…collection； in which he took an immense pride； had been growing； until it was the basis if not the completed substance for a very splendid memorial。 Already in it were gathered paintings of all the important schools； to say nothing of collections of jade； illumined missals； porcelains； rugs； draperies； mirror frames； and a beginning at rare originals of sculpture。 The beauty of these strange things； the patient laborings of inspired souls of various times and places； moved him； on occasion； to a gentle awe。 Of all individuals he respected； indeed revered； the sincere artist。 Existence was a mystery； but these souls who set themselves to quiet tasks of beauty had caught something of which he was dimly conscious。 Life had touched them with a vision； their hearts and souls were attuned to sweet harmonies of which the common world knew nothing。 Sometimes； when he was weary after a strenuous day； he would enterlate in the night his now silent gallery； and turning on the lights so that the whole sweet room stood revealed； he would seat himself before some treasure； reflecting on the nature； the mood； the time； and the man that had produced it。 Sometimes it would be one of Rembrandt's melancholy headsthe sad 〃Portrait of a Rabbi〃or the sweet introspection of a Rousseau stream。 A solemn Dutch housewife； rendered with the bold fidelity and resonant enameled surfaces of a Hals or the cold elegance of an Ingres； commanded his utmost enthusiasm。 So he would sit and wonder at the vision and skill of the original dreamer； exclaiming at times： 〃A marvel！ A marvel！〃
At the same time； so far as Aileen was concerned things were obviously shaping up for additional changes。 She was in that peculiar state which has befallen many a womantrying to substitute a lesser ideal for a greater； and finding that the effort is useless or nearly so。 In regard to her affair with Lynde； aside from the temporary relief and diversion it had afforded her； she was beginning to feel that she had made a serious mistake。 Lynde was delightful； after his fashion。 He could amuse her with a different type of experience from any that Cowperwood had to relate。 Once they were intimate he had； with an easy； genial air； confessed to all sorts of liaisons in Europe and America。 He was utterly pagana faun and at the same time he was truly of the smart world。 His open contempt of all but one or two of the people in Chicago whom Aileen had secretly admired and wished to associate with； and his easy references to figures of importance in the East and in Paris and London； raised him amazingly in her estimation； it made her feel； sad to relate； that she had by no means lowered herself in succumbing so readily to his forceful charms。
Nevertheless； because he was what he wasgenial； complimentary； affectionate； but a playboy； merely； and a soldier of fortune； with no desire to make over her life for her on any new basisshe was now grieving over the futility of this romance which had got her nowhere； and which； in all probability； had alienated Cowperwood for good。 He was still outwardly genial and friendly； but their relationship was now colored by a sense of mistake and uncertainty which existed on both sides； but which； in Aileen's case； amounted to a subtle species of soul…torture。 Hitherto she had been the aggrieved one； the one whose loyalty had never been in question； and whose persistent affection and faith had been greatly sinned against。 Now all this was changed。 The manner in which he had sinned against her was plain enough； but the way in which； out of pique； she had forsaken him was in the other balance。 Say what one will； the loyalty of woman； whether a condition in nature or an evolved accident of sociology； persists as a dominating thought in at least a section of the race； and women themselves； be it said； are the ones who most loudly and openly subscribe to it。 Cowperwood himself was fully aware that Aileen had deserted him； not because she loved him less or Lynde more； but because she was hurtand deeply so。 Aileen knew that he knew this。 From one point of view it enraged her and made her defiant； from another it grieved her to think she had uselessly sinned against his faith in her。 Now he had ample excuse to do anything he chose。 Her best claim on himher woundsshe had thrown away as one throws away a weapon。 Her pride would not let her talk to him about this； and at the same time she could not endure the easy； tolerant manner with which he took it。 His smiles； his forgiveness； his sometimes pleasant jesting were all a horrible offense。
To complete her mental quandary； she was already beginning to quarrel with Lynde over this matter of her unbreakable regard for Cowperwood。 With the sufficiency of a man of the world Lynde intended that she should succumb to him completely and forget her wonderful husband。 When with him she was apparently charmed and interested； yielding herself freely； but this was more out of pique at Cowperwood's neglect than from any genuine passion for Lynde。 In spite of her pretensions of anger； her sneers； and criticisms whenever Cowperwood's name came up； she was； nevertheless； hopelessly fond of him and identified with him spiritually； and it was not long before Lynde began to suspect this。 Such a discovery is a sad one for any master of women to make。 It jolted his pride severely。
〃You care for him still； don't you？〃 he asked； with a wry smile； upon one occasion。 They were sitting at dinner in a private room at Kinsley's； and Aileen； whose color was high； and who was becomingly garbed in metallic…green silk； was looking especially handsome。 Lynde had been proposing that she should make special arrangements to depart with him for a three…months' stay in Europe； but she would have nothing to do with the project。 She did not dare。 Such a move would make Cowperwood feel that she was alienating herself forever； it would give him an excellent excuse to leave her。
〃Oh； it isn't that；〃 she had declared； in reply to Lynde's query。 〃I just don't want to go。 I can't。 I'm not prepared。 It's nothing but a notion of yours； anyhow。 You're
